


Profoundly Bonded

by lego_hearts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wing Kink, bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 18:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lego_hearts/pseuds/lego_hearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He imagines where Cas' wings would spread out to if he unfurled them, how high the tips would reach, how soft the ethereal feathers would be-</p>
<p>Cas shivers quite violently, his eyes going wide. Sam is startled and looks at Cas, who looks at Dean, who looks incredibly smug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Profoundly Bonded

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd. mistakes are my own.

The first time it happens Dean is just as surprised as Cas. They've been 'expanding their relationship', as Sam has put it, quite rapidly recently, finding themselves exploring slightly more intimate situations with each other. Neither of them would be willing to call each other 'boyfriend' really, it seems a little frivolous, it's a word that doesn't do their relationship justice, really, but they're closer. They kiss. They touch. Dean has shown Cas the wonders of human intimacy. And now it seems as though that intimacy has spilled over into the supernatural realm-  
  
Cas looks at him, torn between amused and offended.  
  
“What did you just do?” he asks, his hand still resting against the point on his neck where Dean had effectively prodded him. From the other side of the room.  
  
“I-” Dean doesn't know, he isn't really all that sure. “I'm sorry?”  
  
Cas frowns. “Are you abusing our profound bond, Dean?”  
  
“What?” Dean squeaks, because Cas makes it sound...well he makes it sound dirty and quite bad. Dean didn't do anything wrong!  
  
Cas doesn't say any more, but he casts Dean a deep, penetrating stare before he gets back to reading whatever it was he was reading before Dean so very rudely interrupted him.  
  
Now, had Cas laughed it off or explained to Dean what the heck Dean had just done he would have perhaps saved himself a lot of trouble. Because Dean doesn't like being accused of things, especially not abusing profound bonds, and he doesn't like things being left without answer. He doesn't like things being kept from him. So when Cas seems to be more engrossed in his book, Dean concentrates the way he did the first time, thinks about the nice way Cas reacts when Dean touches his earlobes, imagines toying gently with the patch of skin just beneath his ear-  
  
Cas shivers visibly and Dean grins, laughing at the indignant look Cas then gives him.  
  
“You poked me in the ear,” Cas says. “It hurt.”  
  
“Oh,” Dean tries to smother the laughter. He hadn't meant to hurt. “I meant to tickle you.”  
  
“Yes, well, you poked me,” Cas narrows his eyes. “Stop. It isn't funny.”  
  
“Oh Cas! Come on! I can poke you from the other side of the room!”  
  
Cas rolls his eyes. “I would never dream of abusing you in this way.”  
  
“It's not abuse!” Dean protests. “It was meant to be nice!” His voice is getting shrill as he tries to explain himself. “Come on, Cas.”  
  
Shaking his head, the angel once again turns his attention back to the page and Dean gives up. It's no fun if he's just going to be yelled at all the time.  
  
The next time he does it it's almost three days later. Cas is talking to Sam and Dean is grumpy because they can't go out for dinner until Sam has worked out the next piece of the puzzle for their new case and Cas doesn't seem to want to cater to the man who gives him orgasms and Dean isn't impressed. He's thinking about this when he notices Cas jump and turn his head, fixing his eyes on Dean.  
  
He doesn't want to mention it in front of Sam, apparently, because he just gives Dean a warning look. And it's like fanning a flame. Dean grins back at him, lets his eyes drop down to Cas' stomach and thinks, once more, of poking his finger into his belly. Cas' breathing hitches slightly and Dean beams.  
  
“Perhaps it would be better if we went to get some food and came back to think about this,” Cas says. “Perhaps the fuel will help you,” he addresses Sam but his eyes remain on Dean who is mentally adding a tally to his scoreboard.  
  
They don't get much time alone over the next day. Cas doesn't come to bed until late and Dean is already fast asleep by then. They don't get to talk but it does mean that Dean doesn't get reprimanded for his abuse of power again.  
  
The next time Dean 'abuses his power' things change a little. Because the next time he doesn't really mean to annoy Cas. He's not thinking of annoying him, he isn't thinking of pestering, he's just thinking of Cas. Of missing him in the hours that have stretched between the last time they woke up together and the present moment.  
  
Cas is stooped over the table with his back to Dean, looking at a map Sam has spread out. He isn't wearing his coat any more. He's been making the effort to dress like a regular person recently, without being prompted by Dean. So no coat when he's indoors, no suit jacket either. So Dean can see the way his shirt stretches over his shoulder blades, the way the lower hems hang around his ass. He can almost see the bumps of Cas' spine and he thinks of the nights he gets to trace his fingers up and down the flawless skin of Cas' back.  
  
Cas shivers. Dean watches it creep up Cas the way his hands would and the angel turns his head, glancing at Dean over his shoulder. It's not a look of annoyance now. His eyes are slightly darker, his pupils wider. He says nothing and turns back to talk to Sam.  
  
Dean doesn't know how he did that. He doesn't know how he managed to make that better than the jabs and pokes he'd inflicted before. But if it's going to earn him that kind of look then he'll do his damndest to do it again.  
  
It isn't just the thinking, Dean realises, as he hones in on Cas' shoulders to rub them whilst his boyfriend talks to Sam. He has to imagine himself doing it, really put in the effort as though he's physically reaching out to touch Cas. It's a very difficult thing to explain, which is why neither of them have tried. Dean knows, though, if he's gentle and thinks of nice things Cas is very much appreciative. Like now, as Dean imagines running his fingers up and down Cas' neck, rubbing gently at the tense muscles in his shoulders. Cas seems to be visibly melting into the chair under the invisible ministrations of his boyfriend. Sam doesn't comment, too engrossed in the book he's reading, but Cas' eyes meet Dean's over the room and if this is still an abuse of their bond Cas has stopped complaining.  
  
Things get really serious when Dean realises to what extent they are profoundly bonded. It's completely by accident the first time, as the poking was. They're all gathered around, talking quite seriously about a winged creature they should be tracking and Dean's mind begins to wander to other winged things. Specifically the angel sitting across the table from him.  
  
He imagines where Cas' wings would spread out to if he unfurled them, how hight the tips would reach, how soft the ethereal feathers would be-  
  
Cas shivers quite violently, his eyes going wide. Sam is startled and looks at Cas, who looks at Dean, who looks incredibly smug.  
  
“Cas?” Sam starts.  
  
“Dean,” Cas' voice holds a warning, but there is a tone beneath it that Dean is all too familiar with. The rasp of lust that tinges his voice when he says Dean's name at night.  
  
Dean knows exactly what he's done.  
  
Sam is confused but he knows he can't understand everything that goes on between the two of them.  
  
Dean relents and lets Cas and Sam get back to work. He waits, because Sam will leave eventually and then Dean will be free to explore the invisible feathers of his mate-  
  
  
Dean swears he can almost see the feathers, the shape of Cas' wings, the light catching the tips and the arch.  
  
Sam has gone for a while, gone to get food and give his brother and the angel some time alone and Dean is taking full advantage.  
  
Neither of them have moved or closed the gap between them because they both already know what Dean wants to do.  
  
Cas waits. He watches Dean from across the room and waits for him to make his move.  
  
“I can feel your eyes on them,” he says quietly and Dean nods because he is tracing their outline with his eyes, the area he thinks they will be. “Touch me.”  
  
He barely hears the words, but they jump straight to his cock and he draws in a ragged breath.  
  
He imagines lifting his hand and pressing it into the feathers, how soft and warm they would be against his palm. He sees a little shiver run through Cas and they smile at each other.  
  
Dean's eyes trace across the top of the arch he imagines, the strong muscles that flex when Cas takes flight, covered in those tiny little hairlike feathers. Cas bites his lip and Dean swears can see the glimmer of the wings when Cas moves them.  
  
Dean's mind wanders. He thinks back to the fantasies he's had before where he has had Cas on his back in bed, had his fingers buried in his wings, using them as leverage as he fucks him. How hot his hands would get, how he'd be able to feel every strum of Cas' pleasure flowing through his grace.  
  
Cas moans and Dean refocuses for a second to see his angel with a blissful look on his face, his cheeks slightly flushed.  
  
“You pulled my feathers,” he says and Dean is surprised at how fucking hot such a simple sentiment is.  
  
“Want me to do it again?” he asks, his voice a hard rasp, feeling as though all of his nerves are on fire from this strange, intimate interaction.  
  
“I want you to come over here and touch them,” Cas replies, and Dean nearly comes in his pants.  
  
Dean stands but his legs are trembling beneath him. He feels as though he and Cas are about to do something a lot bigger than they have before. Cas stays where he is as Dean makes his way over and Dean is positive he can see Cas' wings unfurling.  
  
“How-” he rasps, his throat suddenly dry as he stands before Cas. “How do I touch them?”  
  
“Just hold out your hands,” Cas says softly. “You know where they are.”  
  
Dean nods because he's sure he does. He reaches a hand forward into the air above Castiel's shoulders. There's nothing. He feels disappointed.  
  
“The way you were before,” Cas prompts, his voice as hoarse as Dean's. “Think about what you're doing.”  
  
Dean pauses and does just that, closing his eyes for a second and holding out his hand again. He imagines Cas' wings, concentrates on them, the way his fingers would feel pressing into the feathers.  
  
He feels them. His skin tingles where they rest against the otherworldly feathers of Castiel's wings.  
  
Cas sucks in a breath and finally Dean opens his eyes. He meets Cas' and for a moment it's like falling.  
  
Dean slides his fingers up and feels the feathers sliding between them like water. Cas' eyes darken.  
  
“I don't understand how I'm doing this-” he whispers. It's not the most erotic thing he could have brought up in the moment, but it's wonderous and Cas doesn't seem to mind.  
  
“The same way I can do this,” Cas says softly, just as Dean feels heat pool in his stomach, his cock instantly hard. He swoons slightly, his fingers instinctively clenching and he feels a handful of feathers in his palm. Cas gasps but he's smirking.  
  
“How-” Dean pants, aching to press himself against Cas, to relieve some of the tension in his pants.  
  
Cas just smiles.  
  
Dean loosens his grip and lets his fingers wander, tracing up the arch of Cas' wings.  
  
Cas' eyes slide shut and Dean can feel the contentment thrumming through the air around his fingers. He imagines the small hairs around the lean muscles, the miniscule feathers that feel like velvet to touch. Cas makes a soft sound and Dean knows it isn't in his imagination that he feels the involuntary shive that runs through his lover's wings. He feels them move against his stationary fingers and feels the air around him displace.  
  
“Cas,” he breathes and leans in to press a kiss to Castiel's slightly parted lips. Cas hums and he leans in, grabbing Dean's shirt to pull him closer.  
  
Their fingers twist and grab in desperation, Cas' in the material of Dean's shirt and Dean's in the feathers he has fantasised about pulling. He can almost feel the erotic charge through his fingertips as they sink into the softness and grasp  
  
Cas cries out and only then does Dean remember that this isn't all they can do, prompted by the rough press of Cas' hand between his legs and against his straining cock.  
  
“Can I take you to bed?” he asks, knowing that he had to do something or he'll end up coming in his pants with just the pressure of Cas' hand.  
  
“You can take me wherever you want,” Cas replies and Dean's mind flashes up the earlier image of himself holding Cas down-  
  
Cas moans very audibly and stands, pushing Dean backwards, his frame seemingly bigger now that Dean is aware of his expanse of wings. The realisation that Cas can, if he so pleases, hold Dean down and practically destroy him gives Dean a thrill. He forgets sometimes that his lover is more powerful than almost anything he'd faced before.  
  
But Cas always lets him have control. Even now, wings spread and the power of God shimmering around him Cas lets Dean lead him to the bed by his tie.  
  
He pushes Cas onto the mattress and he can see the air shimmer about him where his wings fall. And then he sees the bulge in Cas' pants and feels the surge of adrenaline that comes with knowing Cas' pleasure is literally in his hands.  
  
“Take your clothes off,” Dean commands, his eyes raking over Cas' too covered body.  
  
Cas just looks back at him, gaze steady and defiant. Dean clucks his tongue softly, climbing up on to the bed with Cas, straddling his stomach and leaning forwards to dig his fingers into Cas' wings that he knows are spread either side of him.  
  
Cas hisses but there's a spark of something in his eyes and Dean knows he likes being manhandled.  
  
“I said, take your clothes off,” he whispers, his fingers gripping the feathers beneath them, feeling Cas' grace like electric water on his skin.  
  
Cas simply grins and licks his lips and Dean feels it in his dick. He feels Cas' hot little tongue on his shaft and he can barely keep a straight face.  
  
“You think you're so clever,” Dean whispers, leaning in close to those damn lips, hovering just above them. His fingers start a more gentle caress of Cas' wings, petting them, gentle and affectionate.  
  
Cas shivers and falls very compliantly still beneath Dean, like a giant cat.  
  
Dean approves. He continues, feeling Cas' body beneath him slip into pliable. Easy. He knows Cas would let him do anything he desired and Dean knows he can be rough, desperate, uncontrolled. But he never is.  
  
With his fingers in Cas' wings and reluctant to let them go Dean has to improvise. He strokes the feathers beneath his fingers, listening to the humming noise Cas makes in his pleasure. He forgets that to everyone else the wings are invisible. That his fingers are caressing the sheets on either side of Castiel. He forgets because he is lost in the images he has formed. He can see Cas' wings. He can see the feathers, his fingers buried in the softness.  
  
He resumes the fantasy in his mind, the way he'd have Cas spread out beneath him, legs drawn up either side of him. How he'd be pushing into Cas' tight body, his fingers twisted in his wings for leverage, pulling as he pushes forward- Beneath him Cas keens and Dean feels his legs part behind him. He can almost feel Cas squeezed around his dick.  
  
Surely they can't do this? He can't sit here and fuck Cas with his mind?  
  
“More,” Cas demands and Dean leans forward, claiming the angel's lips with his own. He thinks of thrusting into him again, the tightness and the heat, the pressure around his aching dick and he feels it. He feels Cas around him even though he's just straddling Cas' chest and they're both fully clothed and seriously- they can't actually do this...?  
  
“Dean,” Cas whines and Dean subconsciously rocks his hips up towards nothing, his mind filling with the memories of their first time, how tight Cas had been, but how pliant, like now.  
  
He wants to ask how but all words are swallowed by more pressing wants, the desire to live out his fantasy for real. But this is too good, too much fun.  
  
He thinks of holding Cas down, pushing him into the bed, rocking forward hard, fast, the grip and release of Cas' muscles. His own cock throbs, aches in his pants and Cas trembles and arches beneath him, his skin flushing and his wings twitching as though Dean were really fucking him.  
  
It's good. It's intense. It's amazing because Dean can imagine it perfectly. He can give perfect pleasure to Cas like this. To them both. But it doesn't beat seeing Cas naked. Seeing Cas flushed and sweating all over and, no matter how well he imagines it, nothing beats seeing Cas stretched tightly around his dick.  
  
He climbs off of Cas as Cas cries out at the loss of both Dean's body weight and his mind penetrating him. But Dean wastes no time in stripping off his shirt and pulling down his pants, ungracefully extracting himself from his clothing. Cas' eyes don't leave Dean's cock, though, desperate to have it back inside him in some way.  
  
Dean stands, hand wrapping around himself, watching the man spread out on the bed with a passion burning in his eyes. Cas moans, his legs still spread and his cheeks still flushed.  
  
“Now,” Dean whimpers, his voice husky, his hand stroking slowly up and down his erection. “Take your clothes off.”  
  
This time Cas doesn't need to be asked twice. His hands drop immediately to his flies, undoing the button of his pants and yanking them down his hips, and kicking them away until they hit the floor.  
  
Dean watches the fluttering of his wings that come from the arousal and anticipation, the feathers that look to be shivering with the desire Cas feels.  
  
He's about to start unbuttoning his shirt when Dean shakes his head, giving no further response until he is back on the bed and pushing Cas' legs apart. He sees those magnificent wings shiver again and Cas pauses, stills, watching Dean as though awaiting a command. It's only a split second because Dean can't wait any longer before crawling over Cas' body and burying his fingers back in the feathers.  
  
Cas gasps, his hands falling away from his shirt, letting Dean rest against him, chest to chest.  
  
“No time. Want you,” Dean whispers, crushing their lips together as his fingers tighten their grip on Cas' wings. Their cocks rubs together and Dean feels Cas' thighs press closer to him as though daring Dean to try and get away.  
  
“Use your hands,” Dean says against Cas' mouth. “I want to be inside you.”  
  
He feels Cas tremble beneath him and feels his wings practically throb under his fingers as Cas reaches down between them and finds Dean's cock, shifting so that he can guide him properly between his legs, helping Dean slide the head of his cock into him because he takes over again, thrusting forwards and filling Cas with one smooth movement.  
  
Cas cries out again, arching up, but Dean's hands in his wings seem to stop him from moving around. Dean gives him seconds to adjust before he starts doing as he promised, using Cas' wings for leverage to pull himself forward into his lover, giving Cas a double whammy of sensations; the way he is filled and the twisting of his feathers. Dean knows Cas would tell him if he was hurting him or damaging his wings, but Cas' expression is one of bliss and Dean feels no need to let up.  
  
Cas is perfect and tight around him and Dean can feel everything – every wave of pleasure that pulses through Cas. Dean loves these feathers. He loves the way they feel, how beautiful they are, how sensitive because he sees in Cas' eyes that the angel feels every little tug and caress.  
  
They're driving each other crazy. Dean can barely concentrate on his rhythm, pulling out and then smoothing down the feathers, everything drawing a different reaction from Cas who is just a writhing mess beneath him.  
  
Dean tries to focus and guides his hands over to the base of Cas' wings, just accessible beneath Cas' shoulders. Cas all but screams his name, missing the look of surprised but smug satisfaction on Dean's face as he toys with the apparently extra sensitive area. More sensitive than the feathers and easier to hold on to, letting Dean grasp and fuck with a good grip on the angel beneath him.  
  
Cas' moans dissolve into sobs, his muscles clenching hard on Dean's dick as Dean picks up the pace, pounding relentlessly into Cas' body. He can feel Cas' orgasm growing. He feels it in his fingers, the electricity again, Cas sprawled out beneath him unable to even utter a moan.  
  
His orgasm is blinding. Dean doesn't know if Cas brings it on with his own or if they just come together or if their bond means these things are just one and the same, but Dean feels Cas comes between them and feels his own cock release inside Cas' body at the same time Cas' wings tense, stiffen and tremble-  
  
It's the best orgasm Dean has ever had and he continues to thrust gently and to toy with Cas' wings even as they both start to come down. He listens to Cas side and feels him press his face into Dean's neck, murmuring incoherencies. Cas' shirt is ruined, but it isn't the first time.  
  
The haze begins to fade slightly, gradually, as their breathing evens out and their heartbeats settle down and they press kisses to each other's faces. It's more tender than their usual post coital interactions, but the whole experience has been a bit more than their usual.  
  
Dean is more susprised when he opens his eyes to see the magnificent spread of Cas' wings still visible beneath the angel. He brushes his fingers over them lazily, smoothing out the misplaced feathers.  
  
“I can still see them,” he whispers, as though anything louder might scare them away.  
  
Cas nods his head. “You're still thinking about them,” he says matter of factly.  
  
Dean blinks several times, stroking his hand over the expanse of the underside of Cas' wing, the places he'd been gripping and pulling, trying to soothe them.  
  
“When- but now I know they're here-” Dean starts, turning his head and pressing his face into the feathers. They smell like nothing he has known before. Fresh. Like ice. “How am I supposed to forget?”  
  
“Maybe you won't,” Cas replies, watching Dean with amusement as he explores his wings.  
  
“So I'll always be able to see them?” Dean asks, his voice slightly muffled.  
  
“Maybe,” Cas nods. “I hope so.”  
  
“You hope so?” Dean can't help but feel a little touched by the sentiment. Cas is still beneath him, so beautifully spread out. Dean thinks briefly of the things they have discovered, the things they can do to each other from across the room and the fact that he and he alone can see this angels wings because of their bond- and that's pretty cool.  
  
Cas' body is warm and when Dean looks at him Cas is smiling. A real, big smile that Dean can actually feel all around him, pressing against him, tingling on his skin the way the feathers have made his fingers feel. The ripples of energy. It's wonderful. It's like floating. Cas' wings give a little shiver, rustling softly against the bed spread.  
  
“I love you too, Cas,” Dean whispers.


End file.
